


The Same Dress

by imaginarycircus



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M, Mostly fluffy but with a chewy angsty center, Second Chances, flangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 01:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginarycircus/pseuds/imaginarycircus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the postscript on Twitter Lizzie was wearing the same dress she wore in episode 60 to reject Darcy. Here's why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Same Dress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squishycupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squishycupcake/gifts).



A week on and Darcy still felt nervous about being in Lizzie’s bedroom. He routinely left the door ajar in case her parents objected, or perhaps because Mrs. Bennet approved a little too graphically. Lizzie seemed to find it endearing—at least he thought that’s what that combination of eyeroll, smile, and head shake meant. Usually she closed the door. Usually thirty seconds later he was glad she had.

He lay on her bed reading _The Hunger Games_ in his bare feet, while she was in the shower. He was pretty pleased with himself for suggesting that they celebrate all the various things they had to celebrate. He’d personally issued invitations to Charlotte and Lydia.

Lizzie padded back into her room wrapped in green bath towel. She’d already dried her hair and applied make-up. He should probably put on his coat and tie and be ready to help her zip up anything that she might need him too.

“I don’t have anything to wear!” She was staring into her packed closet.

Having a sister had taught Darcy that sometimes a person means, “I have nothing suitable to wear for this ocassion.” And other times means, “I can’t figure out what to wear.”

He put on his shoes and stood at her shoulder, looking into her closet. She had plenty of perfectly lovely things to wear.

“Would you care for some assistance?” He dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder, permitted himself two seconds to think about how easily her towel could end up on the floor, and then went back to looking in her closet.

“Uh…” She glanced at him, unsure whether he was teasing or not. “What? You’re going to be my valet?”

“I believe ladies had maids. Gentleman had valets.”

“True, but I thought you’d prefer not to be called a maid.” She arched one of her lovely brows.

“Lizzie, If we stand here flirting all evening we’ll be very late to meet Charlotte.” He trailed a featherlight index finger along the sweep of her collarbone and circled the hollow of her throat. 

She swayed toward him a fraction. The slightest tip could send them both over the edge, but Darcy didn’t think he could take it if Lydia walked in on them again. (The little minx had a key!)

William Darcy, man of action, turned and swiftly sifted through an array of dresses and shirts, many of them familiar. None of them seemed quite right so he shoved them to the side. Flick, flick, flick. No. No. N… oh. He handed her the dress.

She eyed it with deep suspicion. “You want me to wear _that?_ ”

He nodded.

“You do recognize this dress?”

“I do and I want you to wear it. Please.”

Lizzie frowned at the dress, but said, “OK. If it’s what you want.”

He hurriedly put on his socks, shoes, tie, and jacket. He snuck a glance or two at her while she dressed, but didn’t stare. Not very much anyway. She held onto his arm when stepping into her heels.

She smoothed her skirt down. “Sorry. I have to ask. Why this dress?”

“That morning, that awful day at Collins and Collins, you were making tea. I was standing behind you waiting to get coffee.” He splayed his hand across the skin exposed by the cutout on the back of her dress. “I had already decided not to tell you how I felt. I had convinced myself that we were too different. But… “

“But?”

“I couldn’t stop staring at your back.” He skimmed the edges of the triangular opening. “I almost blurted out my feelings right there.”

Lizzie who’d been looking at him with her mouth open, broke into laughter. “That’s what that was! I turned around and you looked at me like I’d done something unforgivable, like stab your grandmother. I thought I’d done something gauche with my tea, like put the milk in second. Then you ran away.”

“I did not run. It was a brisk walk. And no, that’s not quite what I was thinking—”

“Uh-huh.”

“I estimate that we have about twenty seconds before Lydia bursts in. So let me just add that it was the sight of you in this dress that morning in the sun that provoked my terribly worded and arrogant profession of love later in the day.”

“Really?” She thought for a moment. “I still don’t understand why you want me to wear it.” Lizzie’s brow went from furrowed to smooth. “Oh. Because later… “

He nodded, but before he could explain further, Lydia rapped on the door. “We’re going to be late, people!”

***

Everyone was having a perfectly lovely time and then Ricky Collins appeared. Darcy expected to die of old age waiting to get a word in edgewise. Beautiful, brilliant Charlotte managed to lure Ricky away. Lydia put her arms around both he and Lizzie and said, “OK, kids. I’m getting a ride home with Charlotte. You’re welcome! Now shoo!”

Lizzie gripped the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close. “I’m so sorry I said that you were the last man I could ever fall in love with.”

Her expression was wretched. “Lizzie. I’m fine with being the last one, as long as you do love me.”

That brought the sparkle back to her eyes. “You know I do. I love you.”

“You asked what put that look on my face, the one you saw when you turned around at Collins and Collins? I didn’t have time to explain earlier. That morning I was so lost in my imagination that I’d forgotten we were in an office, in a public space.” He escorted her out to the car and just before backing out of the parking space he said, “If you want to know what I was imagining? You’ll have to come home with me and let me show you. Sometimes I have trouble expressing my thoughts.”

“You’re improving,” she said. “You know, I almost got rid of this dress several times, but it felt wrong to give it away even though I thought I could never wear it again.” She straightened the hem across her knees. Lizzie was twisted sideways in her seat, watching him, trying to puzzle it out. He wanted to give her to figure it out on her own. It wasn’t only that he wanted to live out the missed opportunity of taking the dress off her. It was more than that.

He was leaving for San Francisco on a seven AM flight. The next six weeks were going to be complicated and difficult. He didn’t want to leave without knowing that she understood what he was thinking, what he expected, or at least strongly hoped for.

Lizzie was quiet and thoughtful when he led her upstairs to his room. She stepped out of her shoes and stretched her feet. “I think I get it.”

He hung up his coat and watched her. He assumed she’d cross the room and grab him by his tie. Instead she crossed to the foot of the bed and stood facing away from him.

“When you came to talk to me—when everything went wrong, you had a plan—”

“More like hopes.”

”All right. You had certain hopes about me and about this dress.” She glanced over her shoulder as if to say, ‘What are you waiting for?’

With forced calm he toed off his shoes and emptied his pockets. She waited facing away. He didn’t want that. She hadn’t understood because he hadn’t given her enough information to draw a different conclusion.

He slid his arms around her waist and drew her back against his chest. “Lizzie, what I wanted then? It’s not important because I’m not that man any longer.”

“You don’t want to take off my dress?” She tilted back her head, exposing the long line of her throat, giving him a heart-stopping view down the front of her dress.

“I wouldn’t go that far. Some things will probably never change.” He turned her in his arms and kissed her. “I’ve thought quite a lot about getting this dress off you, but I’m far happier about getting you into it. You wore it because I asked. You wore it because you care for me. Do you know what my fantasy is now?”

Her pupils were enormous and she shook her head very slightly.

“I want to wake up and find this dress hanging in a closet next to all my clothes. This dress and all your dresses.” She stiffened in his arms. “Not necessarily right away, but someday. When I see this dress from now on I won’t think of rejection or heartache. This dress is a promise.”

“Exactly what do you want me to promise?” She tried to take a step back, but the bed was in the way. He wasn’t saying it right.

He tilted her chin up so she’d look at him. “No. Lizzie. A promise from me to you. I will do everything I can to make you happy, to keep you safe. I won’t forget that every word you said to me in that office, while wearing this dress, was well deserved.”

“I shouldn’t have—”

“Yes. You should have. I’m glad you said those things. I didn’t like hearing them, but I needed to. If you hadn’t spoken up, I wouldn’t have tried to better myself and then you wouldn’t love me. In the long run that would have been far worse. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. I’ll never feel good about how mean I was, but if it’s what had to happen to get us here? Yeah. Then I accept it.” She reached for his tie and pulled him down so that their mouths were an inch apart. “Now I think you should tell me all about what you were thinking that morning at Collins and Collins before I turned around.”

It was easier to show her. So he did.


End file.
